The last CD I bought was from Page CXVI – a group that remakes hymns. So while it’s technically a “new” CD – all of the songs and tunes were already familiar. The rest of my music purchasing history is littered with single song purchases from iTunes. All of those are songs I’d already heard a million times before purchasing on the background tracks in stores or played for me by friends desperate to expand my popular music horizon. I’ve got about 400 songs on my iPod, but generally only play the same twenty. I’ve rocked out to the same three songs every day for the past month and a half.

I love watching reruns of my favorite TV shows.

This may sound like a waste of time – but isn’t all TV basically a waste of time?

Usually, I’m happier watching the rerun than I am watching a new episode. Given the choice of watching a movie I’ve never seen or a favorite movie I’ve watched a dozen times I will almost always choose the one I’ve already seen. One of the main sensations I experience upon finishing a new TV show or movie is the anticipation of watching it again at a later date as a rerun.

I’ve just purchased tickets back to Thailand.

I have to leave my host country every six months and the next trip is coming up in July.

When I was trying to decide where to go on this little mandatory trip, I seriously considered going somewhere else. Malaysia. Cambodia. Sri Lanka. Someone I know talked Malaysia up as infinitely better than Thailand so much so that I was in the process of picking out a hotel in Penang.

But then I realized – that’s just not me.

One year in college, just two weeks before finals, my completely extroverted roommate wanted to re-organize our dorm room. Mired in papers, studying every waking moment, and anticipating the craziness of the Christmas holiday – nothing sounded more stressful to me. I put her off as long as possible until she threatened offered to do the reorganize herself. That sounded like a worse idea, so one night we rearranged absolutely everything.

What neither one of us knew at the time was that the tension between us was caused by our personality’s reaction to stress. For her – stress was a catalyst for change. She coped with all of the other craziness by initiating changes she could control (furniture reorganization). My preferred coping response to stress was to hunker down and attempt to make sure nothing else changed as far as I could control.

Introverts generally find routine and sameness life-giving – especially if they’re already stressed out in other areas of life. So when life’s a little bit crazy, I blast the same three songs over and over every day. I leave the new TV episode in favor of a rerun. And, once I get over how it may make me sound boring, I make plans to go to the exact same hotel in the exact same city in Thailand.

Introverts – Do you see yourself in this description? What are some things you find you prefer on rerun? Do you have extroverted friends/family members who urge you into new experiences?

Extroverts – I’ve described this to an extrovert friend of mine who’s married to an introvert and she laughed at how much like her husband I sound. Have you noticed the preference for reruns in your introverted friends/family members? Does it bother you?

Language and how people use it, I have learned, is very much a function of cultural values. Language takes on a crucial role in most everyday situations in a country that idolizes personal expression. It also becomes important when your culture is built on a ‘flat’ authority structure, often requiring you to argue your side and win allies rather than simply ‘pulling rank’ to make decisions.

Conversely, if you find yourself in a Confucian-based society built on hierarchy, a leader doesn’t require such lingual persuasion or volume of speech. To be on the right track, the subordinates need only observe their premier through non-verbal means and follow his ‘way’, or so the ancients believed. Talking therefore is one of MULTIPLE arrows in the Eastern quiver, rather than THE arrow in most of the Western world today.

(As an aside, in Singapore, the enigma is deepened by a software and hardware issue. If you speak English, then for the most part you speak the same language as everyone here (hardware). And yet there’s much more going on inside the emotional circuits of locals – a lot of software layers that are deep and unseen to the foreigner.)

Hands down it’s easier to be an introvert here than in the West, I believe. It’s said that an Asian’s sense of space is in his mind, whereas his Western counterpart seeks out a physical space to feel at peace. But no matter how you find your zen, people are generally less pressured in East Asian culture to project themselves verbally, which is, admittedly, also nice at times (even for an Extro).

And yet I find myself facing a problem at times, of lacking consistent ‘sound boards’, to journey with through an issue verbally to the point of conclusion. While a quieter lunch table is all well and peaceful, sometimes I truly need the tactful verbal assistance of another person to dialogue with so I can know what I’m thinking. There’s little an extrovert fears more than a mind full of half-processed thoughts and no one to share them with. Unlike the introvert whose assembly line is often more internal, the extrovert is often still putting exhaust pipes on his ideas as they come conveyoring out his mouth.

And while talking is generally a cathartic enterprise for an extrovert, it’s not as if we need to exercise the ability continuously. In my own anecdotal evidence, even a single 15-30 minute conversation with some good back and forth from both parties is enough to stimulate me for a whole work day. Having satiated my ‘fix,’ I’m then free to NOT talk and can come at my work with increased focus and drive. To be certain, the extrovert is more dependent in a way than his introvert counterpart in that the extrovert’s need can only be met by others through language. And the value of even that one conversation cannot be understated. And what’s the warning sign is all’s not well? If your extrovert friend isn’t talking, you should probably ask them why.

So the next time you’re with your colleagues dipping into a bowl of fried noodles with some chopsticks in a crowded food court – look up, and around. Find the extroverts among you and just say any old thing that comes to your mind. They’ll probably appreciate the effort.

I’m very happy to introduce today this blog’s first ever guest post! I met John nearly a year ago at a communicator’s conference in Thailand. As we talked, I was amazed at the similarity of our experiences in their complete opposite-ness. I was very much feeling an introvert struggling in an extrovert’s “dream culture” (if such a thing exists), while he was experiencing the opposite in Singapore – extrovert in an introvert’s dream culture. Since then, I’ve enjoyed trading culture notes and other thoughts on life as Americans living overseas. I’m excited he’s agreed to share some of his experiences & thoughts with you… And please join the conversation below!

—

The food arrives and I pay the server amid the bustle of Singapore’s usual lunchtime food court melee. I examine the spread of Asian delight on my plate and indulge – without talking. I’m not alone at the table – far from it actually. I’m joined by a handful of colleagues who have come to partake in the daily office ritual.

There’s a clamour all around the expansive food court – noises of food preparation, orders being placed and ladies clearing plates from tables. And yet at my table, there’s a curious, seemingly inexplicable silence. Heads to the bowls and chopsticks in motion, I’m left wondering with increasing anxiety who will break this echoing hush? Who will divulge some personal anecdote or stray emotion? Who will think of something their friend told them last night that was just toooo funny to not share? Or who, as a last resort, or perhaps just out of sheer boredom, will finally allay the collective angst and fill the airwaves with whatever words they can muster together?

Because surely it’s better to talk than to not talk.

Right?…

Turns out Chinese people are a lot more okay with silence than I am.

Such was the verdict after a few initial lunch-time runs like this one. Now, after a year and a half in Singapore, it’s a mantra I return to almost daily when it seems there’s just a little too much silence for comfort.

Admittedly, modern America has become an extrovert’s buffet. From our classroom and office setups to our fixation on endless ‘collaboration’, to the way we’re not okay when others steal away from the group for moments of respite on the playground – there’s seemingly something for everyone at this table!… as long as you’re, well, an extrovert. And I am very much a product of this culture from whence I’ve come. An extrovert by birth, this buffet came somewhat naturally and deliciously to me. Year after year I had my fill, and then some. That is, until East Asia.

I recall my dismay when in a meeting here with office colleagues we were asked to ‘give our input’ on something. HERE! I thought…at last. An explicit call for verbal backup. My chance to un-dam a torrent of solicited verbal fortitude. Surely I can’t fail on this one. And yet, as I freely offered my zealous constructive criticism and waited for equally eager commentary from my colleagues, instead something of a silent awkwardness settled tangibly into the conference room. I was met with ruffled receptions from the superiors, and realized my other colleagues were clearly holstering their verbal side arms. Apparently that wasn’t the extrovert backup they were looking for, I surmised. Indeed, another lesson learned.

What about you? How has your personality clashed with a certain experience or context you’ve been in?